That which you have stolen
Is in your potent hands.
You hold it there securely
Not letting a pulse be spared
Of the ceaseless ache of love for you.
Yearning for your gentle caress
Her heart sits apart from reality.
Waiting with ardent patience
And feeling feeble without you.
She hungers for your lips to touch hers.
When she at last feels you upon her
It makes her tremble with pleasure.
For a tenderness unknown to it
Rakes at her meek heart.